


Wrap the Night Around Me

by the_dala



Series: North and South of the River [6]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Reunions, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3696284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dala/pseuds/the_dala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Will have returned to Port Royal with some unfinished business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrap the Night Around Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from U2's "Love Is Blindness."
> 
> I'm archiving my old PotC fic - this was originally published on February 25th, 2004.

He very nearly slept through his own reunion.

The violent pounding on his bedroom window finally woke him. He jerked up to see Will glaring at him through the glass, both fists pressed against it. His expression softened immediately when James got up to let him in.

“What are you doing?” James asked, perplexed, as he opened the window and Will tumbled through, tripping over the sill to land on the floor.

“We’ve been at the door for near half an hour! Have you gone deaf in just a month? I thought I was going to have to break in.” His face suddenly stretched into a grin as he took in James’ cotton nightshirt, which was old and threadbare and left very little to the imagination. “And hello, by the way.”

James hauled him to his feet, pulling him into a kiss that was messy and noisy and every bit as good as he had remembered.

“Where is your lesser half?” James hissed as Will dragged teeth along his pulse point, one hand sliding down his spine while the other tangled in his loose hair. Will could be sweet, but he could be this too. “Not that I don’t enjoy you on your own merits...”

Will chuckled before he abruptly quit his enthusiastic nibbling of James’ clavicle. His eyes flashed darkly as he muttered, “Stupid bugger is still down waiting for you to let him in.”

James raised his eyebrows at Will’s turn of mood. Will shook his head before he could say anything.

“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “But just out of curiosity, would you be amenable to the idea of leaving him out there for the night?”

James pretended to consider it, very much enjoying the way Will’s hands had gone back to finding the patched spots in his shirt. “I doubt my housekeeper would appreciate finding him on the stoop tomorrow morning.”

Will’s tongue stuck out and unfortunately disappeared behind his lips again before James could grab hold of it. “He’d probably just go whoring at one of the taverns you pretend not to know about.”

“Do I detect a note of scorned blacksmith? Should I be upset as well?”

With a sigh, Will let go of him – _damn_ – and started for the door. “No, he’s content to lie around mooning at me rather than go out carousing. We’d best get him before he reaches the bottom of the bottle and wakes all your neighbors with that awful song.”

James might have been more concerned with Will’s apparent anger if it had affected his libido. Since their too-brief embrace had provided him with tangible evidence to the contrary, he was mostly concerned with getting Will – and Jack, if he was still sober enough – into his bed as soon as possible.

Jack was stumbling over the third verse by the time they reached him, thankfully keeping his voice down.

“‘Ey! Jamie!” he said, raising his murky bottle and swinging himself into James’ arms. “Ouch.”

“What –” James caught him and immediately felt the bandages under his shirt.

“Ouch,” Jack repeated, rubbing up against him and trying to get him to sample the rum, the mere odor of which was making his eyes water.

James looked at Will for an explanation. Will threw his hands up in exasperation. “Don’t ask me, he’s the one that got himself skewered by a piece of bowsprit.”

“It broke,” said Jack triumphantly. “Th' _Pearl_ was victorious once again.”

James raised a hand to his temple, feeling a headache approach. Jack grunted and started massaging the area with slobbery kisses. “Please tell me it was not an English ship.”

“It was French,” Will assured him.

“Aye, French,” said Jack with pride. “Damn crazy French.”

“Don’t start,” snapped Will.

Jack hiccuped and grabbed at James as though he expected to fall. “Will,” he breathed into James’ face, his breath rum-scented, “is not all too very pleased with me a’ the moment.”

Will said nothing, only rolled his eyes as he stalked past James into the house. He let James half-carry Jack up the stairs by himself, but he did assist in tucking the inebriated pirate into bed.

“Don’t vomit on my pillow, please,” James said, bending down to kiss him.

“And waste good rum?” Jack retorted. He bumped his nose against James’ jawbone. “Sorry to have spoiled your night, love, but the boy'll take care of you.”

James straightened and turned to see Will propped against the doorframe, arms crossed across his chest and a half-smile quirking his lips.

“Is that so, Mr. Turner?” James inquired, stepping up to him slowly.

“I think something could be arranged,” said Will in a low voice that sent shivers lancing through James’ belly. He took James by the shoulders once he was in reach. “But not here,” he added, shooting a baleful glance in the direction of the bed.

James was still puzzled at their feud, but he wasn't thinking particularly clearly at this point. Hooking a thumb under Will’s waistcoat, he dragged him backwards, down the hall, and in through the first door he could find. It happened to be a linen closet, impractically oversize. Spare sheets, towels, and blankets rained down upon them as they hit the ground, James landing on top. He groaned at finally being able to press himself flush against the receptive body beneath him. Will wrapped arms and legs around him, making helpless little sounds as James ground their cocks together. Too many layers between – his hands skittered down to Will’s trousers, unconcerned with anything else. Will’s wriggling made it rather difficult, so he pinned a hip down with one hand while he fumbled with the other.

“Oh _Christ_ ,” Will panted. “In case you can't tell, James, I’m a bit desperate here, so if you wouldn't mind —”

James paused as a devious thought, worthy of Jack himself, wormed its way into his lust-clouded mind. Stilling his hand just above Will’s body, feeling the heat rising up from him, he leaned over to look into his face. “How desperate?”

Will’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. James resisted the temptation to seal it with his own.

Understanding flickered in those brown eyes, and Will’s tongue flickered out to wet his lips. “Is that it, then? You want me to beg?” His voice dropped to a growling whisper, accompanied by a buck upwards again the weight bearing down on him.

And yes, _yes_ that was it, what he had been missing all these weeks, what he had been waiting for with remarkable patience, considering that Jack and Will had each other while they were gone and he had only himself for company.

His body was reacting with all predictable interest, but there was that shadow behind the hot desire in Will’s eyes, and the nagging reminder that things weren't all right between he and Jack.

Biting his tongue and hating himself a bit, James shifted to lie on his side, losing that warm pressure.

Will’s head thunked against the floor and he sighed as if he’d been expecting this.

“Tell me,” James said quietly, noticing a tiny scar above Will’s right eyebrow for the first time. He fingered it gently; it was new.

“Not a terrible battle, all things considered,” said Will, outlining the curve of James’ hipbone with one hand. “And Jack wasn't badly injured. It looked nasty because of the splinters, but no real damage. It was just...” He gestured at the empty air. “He kept pushing me away – didn't want me there when Trapp was sewing him up, wouldn't let me change the dressing. He _shouted_ at me for being too careful in bed. When I lost my temper and stormed off, he...” Will trailed off, a blush lighting his cheeks.

“He didn't come after you?” James guessed. Will’s uncomfortable silence was answer enough.

“It’s not as if we've never fought before,” he burst out suddenly. “But not like this. This is...he’s just so bloody _stubborn_!”

“Ah,” said James, fighting back a chuckle. “Yes, he’s the only stubborn one in the situation.”

“Are you taking his side?” Will demanded.

James raised his hands in defense. “No, I’m the objective party. I am merely pointing out that the two of you share certain...traits that may lead to conflict if you employ them simultaneously.”

“Very diplomatic. I can see why you've risen to your current state in life.” His wandering hands made the suggestion in his voice inescapably clear.

“Stop that,” James chided despite himself. Will pouted, and that was no less calculated.

James grabbed his wrists to hold him still. “He only acted like that because he didn't want you to see him hurt.”

Frowning, Will fixed him with a skeptical look. “Jack? Jack has no pride. We both know this. He says all his pride got shunted aside for opportunism and a taste for handsome men.”

“Jack, I've learned, says many things that must be taken with a grain of salt.”

Will snorted. “Understated as always, James.”

James squeezed him lightly. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. Honestly.”

“And you _are_ honest,” said Will with a smile, drawing James back onto him again. “To a fault, one might say.”

“A fault?” James said, pretending to be insulted. “Would you still say my honesty is a fault if I say that I honestly intend to fuck you into oblivion?”

Will pursed his lips. “Oh, such language. Bold. Salty. I ought to write you up for –”

James fell onto him, any semblance of self-restraint completely eradicated. He wished he had enough wits about him to keep count, because he was fairly certain he was setting a new standard for the removal of all clothing in the least amount of time. Of course his own outfit was not exactly tricky, and there was no way to prove his superiority at disrobing –

Then Will was yanking his oiled fingers out and James let all thought go as he thrust inside. It was exactly as he remembered and yet it was more, because not even the clearest of memories could invoke the immediacy of Will’s body tightening around him, the whispers and cries in his ear, the taste of salt on his tongue as he ran it over tanned skin again and again and again.

“James,” Will pleaded, “harder, love, _harder_ , I want you to...to...”

Exactly what Will wanted him to do was never articulated, but James could guess, and he pounded into him with greater urgency. It was a pace he knew he couldn't keep for long, already starting to lose his rhythm as Will shuddered and suddenly drew up against him, sustaining a cry that lasted halfway though James’ own climax, which took him entirely out of the realm of response so that he was amazed to find himself being cradled against a calmly-breathing chest, unable to recall what he’d called out or how he had fallen back to earth. The sharp, close scent of their coupling pervaded the tiny closet and he relished it as he took deep breaths to steady himself.

Will tickled him under the ribs with a scrap of flannel before using it to wipe them both off. “You’re still trembling.”

“I’m still recovering, I believe. It may take the rest of the night.”

“Can we limp to a bed, at least?” Will pushed him up, sagging when James couldn't quite summon control of his limbs. “I think I've picked up a splinter or two from your dratted floor.”

Somehow, both of them a little unsteady on their feet, they managed to make it back to the bedroom. Jack had turned onto his side and Will immediately rushed over to roll him onto his back.

Jolting awake, Jack peered up at him.

“You’ll pull your stitches,” said Will crossly.

James stood back a little to watch them.

“This mean you’re speaking to me again?” Jack wanted to know. He seemed to have sobered up, at least.

“No,” Will said. He looked back at James. “I’d prefer to sleep elsewhere, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Jamie’s stayin' here with me,” said Jack quickly. “You've had your turn.”

“No one is sleeping anywhere but here,” James interjected. “And no more scrapping, either - not under my roof.”

Will’s mouth tightened, but James raised an eyebrow. His head turned in surprise as he felt Jack’s hand touch his own.

Jack let the hint of a smile, hopeful, curve his lips. “What say we stop ruining our holiday, hmm?”

If Will was going to make any further arguments, he let them go at that moment. “I suppose I can live with that.” He slid into bed next to Jack, resting a hand on his stomach. Jack kissed his forehead, the relief on his face visible only to James, who winked at him and went to take the other side.

“You two smell like debauchery,” Jack complained once they were both settled. “That’s not fair, is it?”

“If you hadn't decided to drink yourself into a stupor, perhaps you might have been able to participate,” said Will, warmth replacing the archness his voice had held earlier.

James sent fingers spidering across his chest. “Will is right. It’s nobody’s fault but your own.”

“Two insolent young pups against one, eh? At least that hasn't changed.”

There was a long pause before James burst out, “I missed you.”

Jack’s grip on him strengthened and he could feel Will reaching across to stroke his cheek.

“We missed you too, lad,” said Jack.

“I meant to be angry with you for leaving without a word, but I forgot.”

“I distracted you,” Will offered.

Jack snickered. “Yes, we all thank you for that." He waved his clever fingers over James' eyes. "Go to sleep and I assure you we’ll be here in the morning.”

“Maybe I don’t believe you,” said James sulkily.

“Promise,” said Will.

“Hand t'God,” Jack added.

He closed his eyes and listened to them breathe, knowing they were doing the same, knowing that they would be there when he awoke. Knowing he would do anything to keep this close. Knowing how difficult that was going to be, and entirely failing to care.


End file.
